No Survivors
by ihatepeeps
Summary: A possible aftermath to the Governor's tank raid. AU post "Too Far Gone." Ignores comics.


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.  
**A/N:** I've always wanted to do something with these four surviving alone together since they're the only ones I give a shit about. 4x08 provided that, and this fic has even more, non-canon character deaths in it. So that's the warning for readers who need it.

* * *

**NO SURVIVORS **

Judith was gone. They failed at what should have been their top priority. Everyone had jobs, true, but stuff happens. Mistakes can be made. Getting Judith on the bus should have been _their_ job. She was their family –their blood– not anyone else's. His mother had died for Judith, and they should have been willing to do the same. Judith was a baby. Defenseless. Helpless. And they did nothing to save her. Carl had no idea where his father went from here. But they couldn't look back yet, that's what Rick had said. Once they found somewhere safe to rest, they could acknowledge the loss of their home and everything and everyone who went with it.

"Dad?" Rick struggled against Carl's support. It only took a few seconds for the man to buckle to the ground. "Dad!"

"Carl?" Rick attempted to shake away the haze he was in. He took an inventory of their location; tried to find direction within the forest's trees. He couldn't find a trail. They were off course.

"You fainted." Carl explained and took an assessment of his dad's condition. He couldn't make out his features through the blood which explained the lightheadedness. His thigh was bleeding from a wound Carl had yet to notice. "Were you shot?" He didn't receive an answer. "_Dad_." He snapped, trying to regain Rick's focus.

Rick groaned and grabbed a second to catch his breath. "I'm okay. Just help me up."

They were able to walk again at a slow pace, but after a while, Carl fumbled Rick on the uneven ground. They stayed there in the dirt for a few minutes. There wasn't much they could do given Rick's current health. A small rest would at least be _slightly_ beneficial. Unfortunately, they hadn't made it too far from the prison yet. And the commotion was still attracting the walkers. The prison always had anyway, even without it. The massive herd now coming in their pathway ended their break. This wasn't something to fight off. This was something to outrun.

"Dad, come on. You have to get up."

Rick's leg barely supported him, but they ran east as fast as they could together. They don't get far. Rick continued to trip and stumble before popping himself back up. He was virtually running on his hands and knees, and he wasn't fast enough. His body simply wasn't allowing it as the walkers gained on them. Carl did his best to pull Rick along by the arm, but Rick fell to the trunk of a tree.

"Carl, go." He ordered, then louder, "Get out of here!"

The younger Grimes frantically shook his head. "No, I'm not leaving you."

Rick tried to get up one last time. They tried to escape one last time. But there were too many.

And though seemingly inconceivable, Rick reached for his gun but was not quick enough and has the flesh torn from his arm. Carl was able to take out the walker responsible but it was already too late. It always was.

"No! Dad!" Carl continued shooting at the other walkers, knowing his ammo was almost gone.

The men were cornered and at a loss. Carl fired off his last bullet and tried desperately to get to the few rounds he carried in his back pocket. This wasn't happening. His father was not supposed to lose this fight. He was their leader. They were supposed to find somewhere safe and heal up. Instead, Carl himself nearly joined his father in being infected before a blade sliced through the closest walker's head. It fell down and left Michonne in its wake. She immediately tried to pull Carl away, but he resisted, twisting his arm out of her grasp in order to get back to his dad.

Rick shot his own gun at a few of their attackers, going back to grab at his arm. The bite was too high to amputate, almost near the shoulder. He wouldn't be making it out of here, but he'd be damned if he wasn't staying alone. He watched as Michonne continued to cut through the herd. If not for the quantity, they would be no match for her. Never were. She would get Carl out, give him a chance.

"Go!" He shouted at his son once more. "Michonne, please." Rick begged.

She used all of her strength to physically drag Carl away then; carrying him despite his enduring protests. "Dad! Stop! Dad! No! Let go of me. Dad!"

Rick fired his gun a few more times; wanting to make sure they got away. Carl would be the last one left. He would keep the family going even with it being difficult. For so long Rick had been worried about his son growing too fast, about what he was growing into and who he was becoming. But Carl could do what needed to be done. He could make the tough decisions. Not only could survive, but he could live in this world. Where so many haven't, Rick had faith that his son could. So he thought of Judith and Sophia. He thought of Dale and Andrea. Of Shane and Hershel. _Lori_. He would be joining his wife soon. They would finally be back with each other. To ensure this, with one last goodbye, Rick turned his gun on himself and pulled the trigger.

Still fighting to get back and seeing it all, Carl went limp. It was his greatest fear come true. He was alone. He had no one.

He didn't even know when they were in the clear. He had no idea how long it took Michonne to get them out of danger. He can't remember any of it. But when they were in the clear, when they were out of danger, Carl came back down to earth, and he excessively shoved Michonne away from him.

"You should have left me!" He screeched through his tears.

"To do what? Die right alongside him?" She challenged. "That's the last thing your father wanted."

"We have to go back. We can't just leave him there."

Michonne took time in approaching her young friend. No boy should have to witness that happen to his father. She didn't even like that she had to see it. Rick grew to mean something to her. He could be trusted. He cared.

"There's nothing to go back to." She told him carefully.

He wilted into her. "We have to."

Michonne steadily embraced him and did her best to keep her eyes alert. Staying still for too long would prove to be fatal. She needed to keep them moving.

.

They had been walking for some time now. The sun was setting, and the distant sounds of gunfire were no longer being heard. But they were not out of the clear as walkers continued to come out of the woods, one by one. Maggie had been careful not to use the guns she carried with her, and so far she had mostly been able to take out the more solitary walkers they had come across by only using her knife. Only once had they fired before then having to run which was not easy in their current state.

Sasha stumbled again on the gravel, causing Bob to stop their trek. "You alright? You need a break?" She shook her head. "You're still not at full strength. I can see it."

"Yeah, well, I'm still doing better than you." Sasha looked him over. He was getting heavier to support, the woozier he became, and his shirt was soaked through with blood. "The bleeding isn't stopping."

"Thin blood." He laughed, self-deprecating.

Maggie turned around and walked the few paces back to them. "You guys, we have to keep moving. We'll take care of your shoulder when we find somewhere to stop, okay?" She didn't wait for any confirmation and simply took lead again. The pair behind her slowly began to follow.

They didn't have the option to stop. With the prison gone, they had no shelter, and they had yet to come across a vehicle on the road they eventually found to follow. It hadn't been one the group frequented on for runs. They had no idea where they were going when they ran from the prison, only looking to escape. All Maggie knew for sure was that they headed in the opposite direction the bus had. They could be separated by miles already. It could take weeks to find it provided something awful didn't stop it. And no one on the bus knew who survived the attack or where they went off to if they did. No one had left together. So it was unlikely anyone was coming to help the three of them.

Not to mention the fact that this road seemed to be as endless as most roads near the prison. She knew eventually they would have to come across some town or structure. Bob needed to be treated to some capacity, and Sasha needed a rest. Then Maggie could come up with some sort of a plan to find Beth and track down Glenn and the bus. She just hoped it was sooner rather than later.

"Maggie!"

She spun around at Sasha's scream, watching as Bob collapsed. She pulled back his shirt and vest. Even with the exit wound, Bob's chest was a mess. It was unknown just how much blood he had lost. Bob thankfully began to come to as Maggie was removing her long-sleeved over shirt, leaving her in a tank. She tied it as best she could around the wound, praying it would slow the bleeding until they could get off the road. She wanted to at least rest him up for a few minutes, but it was difficult to rest in this world. The unmistakable moaning of the undead caught their ears. That was more than one. A knife would not suffice this time around.

Maggie stood Bob up with Sasha, preparing to drag him along. "Help me with him. And whatever you do, do not stop."

The bend in the road up ahead revealed an oncoming herd. Dozens came toward them; too many to fight through.

"Okay." Maggie calmly slipped her arm back out from under Bob's. "You got him?" She took out a few walkers in front of them, and they began to move back in the direction they came.

They didn't have far to go before walkers were in both directions. The road they had taken to get here, the one they had been so diligent in clearing off, was covered in them. Sasha sat Bob down to fire her own gun. Bob watched as even the two together didn't do much good. There were simply too many. They had to get off this road. It would be their only hope for survival. He could feel the life in him draining away. He couldn't run or fire a weapon. He had no way of defending himself, and despite Maggie's promise, there wasn't anywhere to go to heal him up. The hope the initial exit wound provided him was long gone. Bob was going to die, but the women who had carried him this far could go on.

With every ounce of strength left in him, Bob turned around and ran, surrendering himself to the mob.

"Bob!" Sasha yelled for him, but it was too late.

The women gunned a few more down as they tried to escape. Maggie pulled Sasha into the forest ahead of them. It was the only opening they would get. "Come on. More will be coming now. We need to keep going. It'll be dark soon."

.

"Thirsty?" Michonne asked the boy walking next to her. Carl didn't bother answering. "You don't feel like talking. That's okay. I don't feel like talking much either."

She was thirsty, though. They needed to find a water source and somewhere to regroup. Michonne wouldn't be worried if she was on her own. Often times she was. But Carl had just lost the remainder of his family, and while she knew he was capable when going on runs, these were different circumstances. All he had on him was a gun low on ammunition and nowhere to go back to.

With this in mind, she did her best to gain her bearings and try and figure out where exactly they were. After all the time spent going out, she knew there was a shallow river that cut through the woods not too far from the road they were now on. They could follow it for quite a while. Rivers were points on maps and safeguarded against walkers. Anyone left at the prison may have had the same idea, provided they knew of its existence.

Michonne switched directions, hoping Carl would make it easy and just follow her. He seemed to be on auto-pilot and did so. The riverbank gave them the opportunity to wash Rick's blood off of Carl's hands, but it was not drinking water. She continued on with her plan and just led them along it. They eventually stopped a little while later when they get to the outskirts of someone's camp. Three RVs were parked in a clearing, but the residents seemed to be nowhere in sight.

"What?" Carl finally spoke to her. Something had her thinking rather than approaching.

"These are their trailers. The Governor kept me and Hershel in one."

Michonne unsheathed her sword, Carl his gun. They slowly entered the campsite in search for signs of anyone. The first trailer was empty, and by the time they got to the second one, a woman was hastily tumbling out of the third.

"Alisha?" She called. Carl's gun was trained on her as he and Michonne approached. "Whoa, hey." Her hands were immediately up.

Michonne discerned the girl as she took in the unbuttoned shirt and low ponytail. "You were there." It was an accusation and taken as such.

"Look, wait–just look. I know, okay? I know. But in my defense, I didn't know that Brian was some psychopath who liked to chop people's heads off. It wasn't supposed to go down that way."

Michonne tilted her head. "What did you think the tank was for?"

Tara backed up a few steps. "I'll leave. You can have the trailer. You can have anything. I don't care. I just want to find my sister and niece. Please. She's only seven. I need to find them. I'm alone." She reached into the back of her jeans and tossed her gun a few yards away. "Unarmed. You can let me leave. Please."

Michonne thought about relenting. It was true. She listened to her gut. This girl was not a threat to them. But Carl fired before she could make a decision.

"She was one of them." He explained, calmly returning his gun to its holster.

Michonne continued to study him with a look unidentifiable to Carl. It wasn't an expression she had used in regard to him before. He did not know what it meant.

Finally, she moved on and switched topics. She figured his impulsive decision making would have to die back down. Concern could come later if necessary. "We should get some supplies. Make camp for tonight. We'll leave in the morning."

Carl silently agreed, going to retrieve the other gun. This was their home. It could be bait for the only form of revenge offered to him.

.

The sun had finally set. Dusk was behind them and all they had for light was the moon, but the trees mostly blocked it out. Sasha and Maggie were relatively in pitch blackness as they continued through the woods. They hadn't run into any walkers yet, but it was only a matter of time. Sasha was about ready to just climb a nice tree with supportive branches and camp in it for the night. It seemed like the best possible outcome as of now.

When a walker unexpectedly came out from behind a tree and Sasha used the butt of her gun to smash its brains in, she knew her theory to be true. "Shit. Do these things ever stop?" She muttered to herself. One was fine but one tended to mean others.

The two women picked up their stride, and before they could even see it, they stumbled upon what sounded to be a nest of them. There was no time or reason to worry about noise drawing them out. Both Sasha and Maggie stood together and fired off rounds. It wasn't enough, and more seemed to be coming. They were closed in on in a hurry. Trying to clear a path, Maggie got tripped up from behind; faltering in her footing but not falling down. It was enough to put an eerie calm over her. For sure this was where she was finally going to lose to them. However, the two walkers nearest to her go down. It wasn't Sasha, who's still busy firing in the other direction.

Maggie tried to get a glimpse of their aid. "Daryl?"

"C'mon, go. Run!" It was definitely Daryl's voice that pushed the two of them through the gap of walkers.

The three sprinted together, firing off shots at the nearest shadow or noise. They ran until their limbs burned, bouncing up immediately if they happened to trip. Eventually they weren't running from anything. The walkers began thinning in numbers but still they ran. They unfortunately did not come across any source of water but did find a slight hill. Up it they jogged, hoping to evade any further threats. They slowed down and gathered together atop the slight hillside. They were alone, and the moonlight slid through more easily here, allowing them to walk again.

And walk they did until finally they had a stroke of good luck. It was a small shack, not much larger than a generous outhouse, that they found. Daryl wedged open the door and after a look around the single room, they knew to their immense relief that it was empty and clearly had been for a long time.

"How'd you find us?" Sasha asked Daryl once they were settled.

Daryl was looking over the hunting rifles in the corner. Unloaded and seemingly unusable. "Heard gunshots earlier. Picked up your trail. I'm just glad it was you."

"Daryl, did you see Beth anywhere?"

He took in Maggie's hope. This was going to be difficult.

"By the time we left, the prison was covered in walkers." He began slowly, and Maggie's face paled. He didn't need to say it. She already knew. "Tyreese was tryin' to fight a group off with some of the kids, and Beth and I went to help them-"

"No." Sasha cried, backing away as best she could in the small space.

"I'm sorry, Sasha."

Both women openly mourned their losses. Daryl wanted to track down everyone left who did this to them. He wanted to make this right. Make it square.

He couldn't do anything but sigh. "Look, we should get some sleep. I'll take first watch."

.

At dawn, it was Sasha who had volunteered to take watch. She was still recuperating, and the fresh air did her good. The repeated nightmares of her brother's death were only keeping her awake anyway. She had no idea what she was going to do without him. He was the reason she had made it this far. They hadn't been separated since this all started.

Sasha wiped away at her cheeks again and did so until she was interrupted. She looked up at the rustling.

She did not have time to reach for her gun.

.

The thin walls of last night's shelter alerted Sasha's companions of the altercation.

"Were those gunshots?" Maggie questioned as they stirred.

"Sasha."

They collected their weapons and ran the few yards out the shack together, just catching the tail end of the scene.

"Hey!" Daryl called out, firing before the man standing over Sasha even had the chance to turn completely around. Maggie instantly went over to their fallen friend while Daryl went to disarm whoever it was he just killed. "This is one of them. The Governor's militia. Must have been following our trail too." He took the liberty of stabbing his head.

Daryl got back up and stayed standing over the man. He didn't look to be a soldier anymore. They must have killed someone he cared about back at the prison. There would be no other reason for him to follow them this far.

"Daryl, she's dead." Maggie interrupted his thoughts. She sat back, hands to her face.

He sighed and walked over. "I'll do it."

Maggie turned away as Daryl made certain that Sasha would not be coming back. Just another loss. Beth was gone. Her father was gone. She couldn't do anything to help Bob or Sasha. She had no idea where Glenn was. And for what? The prison was destroyed. No one had it now. "What are we gonna do?"

Daryl took a seat next to her. "Go back. See if we can find anyone."

"And after that? We'll be right back to where we were before we found the prison."

He didn't know the answer to that yet and instead stood and held out an arm to pull her up. It was going to be a long walk. It'd be best to just get started.

.

Michonne awakened with a start in the morning. Immediately, she reached for her sword. Carl jumped away from shaking her shoulder as she sat up and took her surroundings back in.

"Just me. I made breakfast." He handed her an opened can, keeping one for himself. "It's just corn."

Michonne stared at it for a moment before deciding it was edible enough. "Should've woke me up sooner."

Carl shrugged. No one else had returned to the trailers last night, allowing him to clear his head and find his pragmatism. He didn't see the need for them both to lose sleep. There wasn't much to go through that was actually useful. Some canned food. A first aid kit. Carl managed packing that up in a book-bag just fine on his own. He had wanted time to himself anyway. Needed it. But he was glad Michonne was with him now even if that wasn't the case yesterday.

"Thanks for coming back for me."

"I'd say we're almost even now." She gave a crooked smile.

He tried to return it, and they ate their breakfast as peacefully as they could.

"I want to go back. Search for any of our people that are left." His dad would've done that after regaining his strength. His dad would've made sure to get them all safely together again.

Michonne slowly set down her can, watching Carl pinch his eyes. "We can't go back to the prison. Nothing will be there but walkers."

"I agree. But the bus drove away. I saw it. We know the escape route. We know where they were heading."

"Sounds like a plan." She nodded toward a trailer. "Find any keys?"

Carl shook his head. "I don't want to live where they lived."

Michonne sighed but respected his request. "Then we're gonna need some more corn."

.

It was the second day after the attack. Maggie and Daryl were taking the long way around. Going directly to the prison would be suicide, and though it would take them longer, it was safer. Amidst the destruction they continued to come across, safety was about all they could hope for at this point. Along with avoiding the common walker clusters on the roads, they had managed to recognize two of them. Two of their own had risen again to become a treat. But that was all. There was no one else. Not a trace. Daryl had begun to wonder if it was only them that were left. At least he knew Carol was okay out there somewhere. Or at least better off than they were.

"I was pissed." He interrupted the silence of their hike. Having a conversation seemed like a better idea than leaving either of them alone with their thoughts. Maggie squinted against the morning sun to address his abrupt statement. "When Rick first told me he banished Carole. I mean I understood why. Now I'm just grateful." He took a deep breath.

"We could look for her too, y'know? Tyreese is dead. Circumstances have changed."

"Nah. There's nothing for her to come back to."

She shrugged. "You're here."

He hesitated before responding. "She's better off. The girls are gone. She shouldn't have to relive that."

"Well if you change your mind."

"Yeah. Maybe."

They fell back into silence after that, and it was a good thing too because during the next twenty yards or so of their walk, Daryl began to hear footsteps. Just little rustles every now and again. Maggie soon caught on to his suspicion, and they slowed their pace.

"I think we're being followed." He murmured over to her, quietly pulling out his crossbow.

Maggie readied her hand gun, and the two crept up on their stalker. They were led a little ways into the woods where they were met with a gun to their face and a sword to their backs. They knew that sword.

The weapons lowered instantly, and Daryl smiled for the first time in days. "Shit, am I happy to see you."

"Come across anyone else?" Michonne asked them.

"No. Jus' walkers."

"But we lost Sasha and Bob." Maggie informed. "Tyreese. The kids." She swallowed as she continued. "Beth. They all died at the prison, tryin' to get out."

Neither Michonne nor Carl said anything to that. It wouldn't be enough. Daryl took the time to notice the missing father figure.

"Rick?"

The subsequent lack of an answer was answer enough. Maggie put a comforting hand to Carl's shoulder while Daryl vented a few steps away before coming right back. "I wanna kill that son of a bitch."

"Little late." Michonne told him smoothly.

Maggie frowned. "The Governor's dead?"

"Told him I was gonna kill him."

"Thank God."

"With any luck he'll turn into one of them so I can kill his ass again." Daryl grumbled.

Michonne hummed. Based on how she left him, that was a possibility—not that it mattered.

"It won't do anything. We need to find the bus." Carl started walking back in the direction he and Michonne were initially headed in before they felt a threat. The three adults stood watching for a moment before Michonne followed suite; Maggie right behind her.

"That bus can be anywhere by now. The gas tank was completely full." Daryl stopped them. "If we're gonna catch up, we'll need some wheels. There's a town not too far from here. Couple days walk, but we'll find a car and then backtrack. C'mon."

They turned back around to follow after him.

.

They made camp later that night; not too deep into the woods in order to keep the moonlight. They had no shelter but did have two to a shift. Maggie and Carl slept first. Daryl didn't like him and Michonne being on the same watch. If something were to happen, they were the better fighters. It made more sense to rotate, but Michonne didn't seem to be in the mood to rest.

"How's he doing?" Daryl nodded over to Carl's sleeping form.

Michonne spared the boy a glance. "About as good as can be expected."

Daryl just grunted. There wouldn't be any point behind raving over the Governor's attack. Michonne shared the sentiment.

"You know all that time I spent going out looking for him…" She trailed off. "Instead he found me."

"This isn't your fault."

"Didn't say it was. I just wish I woulda killed him sooner. Back in Woodbury." She explained. "I got careless at the prison. That won't be happening again." She had no plans on ever being blindsided.

"Good. Because I'm gonna need you to have my back."

Michonne returned his smirk. "Got that right."

.

By the afternoon, they had stopped their walk toward the town in search of a fresh water source. Thirst had kicked in, and they were out of the water taken from the trailers. The four caught up to another, smaller river branch. It appeared to be clean and untainted.

Taking a rest, Daryl and Michonne sat huddled together as they tried to formulate a map of the area in the dirt. They didn't want to have another situation where they came face to face with walkers on the road with no idea where to run to. Maggie left them alone and instead focused on their youngest member. He had been subdued all day, barely saying a word. Since making the stop, he had simply been standing, watching the creek.

"What're you doing?" She approached.

The question hung in the air and went unanswered. "I'm sorry about Beth."

Maggie inhaled sharply, turning away to look out over the water with him. "She was trying to help our friends. Good a way to die as any."

"They're all dead. We didn't even get to say goodbye."

"No." She agreed. That was the difficult part. Something that no matter how many times experienced, was always impossible to get used to. "Your father was a good man."

"So was yours." He finally glanced up at her.

"We can say goodbye now." She proposed. Carl nodded.

Funerals weren't a custom anymore. You got burials if you were lucky. But it almost felt something like one when Carl removed his father's hat and set it in the placid stream to watch it float away. It was the only thing he had left of his family; the only thing tying him to his childhood. There seemed little reason to keep it now. Everything else he's had has been taken from him. He didn't want this stolen too. Maggie joined him by picking some chickweed and sending it to drift into the current. It was the only thing on the bank that resembled a flower.

She wrapped him in a side-hug as they cried together, leaning over to place a comforting kiss atop his head. "You need a haircut." She murmured.

He laughed tiredly with her as they leaned on one another and watched their mementos until they were out of sight.

.

That night Maggie does give Carl a haircut. The town was still a day away, and it was mostly to give the pair something else to do besides wait and worry about the bus. Daryl found himself amused by the touch of absurdity as he cleaned some of his arrows.

"What are you laughing at?" Michonne momentarily paused in her nightly exercises. "You could use one too."

"What do you say, Daryl?" Maggie chuckled, snipping the first aid kit's dull scissors in the air.

"No dice."

The four entered into a comfortable silence after that, hearing only the nature around them as the three adults continued working on the tasks in front of them.

"I've been thinking." Carl ultimately interrupted. It seemed like a good time. "When we find everyone else, we're going to have to find somewhere new to live. I don't want to do what we did before. We shouldn't take in anyone we meet. All it does is use up supplies. It only makes things harder."

Daryl sent a glance over to Michonne in a silent exchange. Carl easily saw it and got ready to possibly defend himself.

"We don't have to worry about that yet." Maggie put an end to it, though, straightening Carl's head. "For now just sit still."

.

Another squirrel fell from another tree as Daryl's arrow sliced through it.

They had finally made it to the edge of the town that morning. Already being farther behind than they intended, the group opted to split up and save some time. Daryl took Carl out hunting with him to watch his back for walkers.

"Do you think you can teach me how to use a crossbow?"

"Sure. When things settle down, alright?"

Carl nodded, and Daryl's attention was drawn away again. The squirrels were enough, but he had not expected to find a rabbit. It was not something to let get away.

"Aw, there we go." He fired off another shot before walking over to collect his kill. "This will last us through today. We can pick up more food for the ride. Bound to be a few stores to go through."

"You think they found a car yet?" Carl asked as they began their walk back into town.

"Hope so. We can't fall anymore behind."

"We'll find them."

Daryl thought that if faith alone made things happen, then between Carl and Maggie, they were going to reunite with their people at something like a functional Woodbury. They were both relentless when it came to the idea of finding Glenn and the others alive and well. Michonne would be fine, but he didn't know what the other two were going to do if they ran into less than desirable results. Anyone could see that it was the only thing keeping them from giving in to their grief. The potential implosion may be too much. They needed to start avoiding it now. "It might be awhile. Just the four of us. We're gonna need to make it work."

"Then we will."

"You're a lot like him. Your dad."

Carl stopped walking and spun back to the older man. He spoke with a warning edge to his voice. "I don't want to talk about my dad, Daryl. I appreciate what you're trying to do but."

"Well if you do ever want to talk." He offered.

"We've all lost someone. Maggie just lost her dad and sister too. You don't have to treat me different because I'm younger. It's not harder for me. I'm not a kid."

"No. But adults can hurt too." Daryl walked past him. He didn't want a response.

Carl waited a few moments before trailing after him. He knew what Daryl said was true, but Carl had watched his father mourn his mother. He witnessed what it cost him and how long it weighed on him. Experiencing that on the road…it wouldn't end well.

Carl will grieve for his parents and sister but only when the time was right. He had to.

.

The women did indeed find a car. Daryl will have to get it started but beyond that, it seemed to be in working condition. Given that the guys were still hunting, they figured it'd be best to save even more time and go on a small run. The convenience store they found was mostly empty, somewhat stocked, and the walkers that were wandering around inside were handled easily enough by Michonne.

Canned food, bottled water, bandages, tampons, a map, expired ibuprofen, and a few other bare necessities were what they packed up. Michonne also snatched up a book that seemed to be for teenaged boys. Not a comic but would serve fine.

"That should last us until we find the bus." Maggie said.

The other woman hummed impassively.

She frowned. "You don't think we'll find them?"

"No, not necessarily."

"Then what's the look?"

Michonne avoided the question for a moment as she moved to kill a walker that turned the corner into their aisle. "The bus would've run out of gas by now." She explained, turning back around effortlessly. "That's a large group to be walking around without many weapons." The prison group had made sure that the bus had certain supplies and rifles, but depending on what they had run into so far, it may have not been enough.

Maggie knew this as well. She wouldn't deny it, but there was no need to condemn the bus folk yet either. "They could've done what we're doing. Found another vehicle. Found more gas."

"Which just means they're going to be farther away and harder to find. With any hope they stopped and made camp not too far from the prison."

"I know it's not going to be easy to track them down. But I also know they're out there somewhere. They have to be. Glenn can handle himself."

"I once thought that about my boyfriend." Michonne confessed. Maggie didn't know how to respond to that. "I hope you find him." She added gently.

"I hope so too."

Having had enough of this abrupt sharing segment, Michonne headed back near the front of the store. Just as they were about to leave, a wrapper caught her eye causing her to chuckle. "What do you know?" She picked up a small package.

"M&Ms?"

Michonne tossed her another bag. "Melt in your mouth, not your hand."

Maggie shook head but also grabbed a few bags for the trip.

.

They siphon gas, Daryl gets the car running, and they pack it up. The town was just as abandoned as all the others. It doesn't take long to leave it and head towards where the bus should be.

Carl watched as Michonne kept playing with the tuner. Daryl was catching up on his much needed sleep in the backseat with Maggie, and she had been doing it since she took over driving. Carl had no idea why. It was unlikely she was trying to find music.

"What are you looking for?"

Michonne glanced at him for a moment before looking back to the road. "When we were on the medicine run, we heard something on the radio. Might be other survivors."

Carl thought about it before coming to his conclusion. "Doesn't matter. We'll find our own place."

"Besides." Maggie interrupted, surprising them. "We're looking for our own survivors. Not anyone else's."

Michonne conceded and switched off the radio entirely. Seeing as how everything back at the prison happened so quickly upon their return, neither she nor Daryl had a chance to discuss this with Rick and the rest of the council. Once everything settled down again, it would need to be addressed. Ominous broadcasts were not something to overlook. God forbid it was another Woodbury.

.

They ended up having to drive by the prison. Just close enough to catch a distant glimpse. The flames have all died out by now and the main structure still remained, but the grounds could barely be seen. Grass peeked through here and there, but walkers were the only sight. So many, they could feel the moaning all the way in their locked up car. There were no survivors, and even if the prison wasn't covered in threats, the only thing left to do would be to count the bodies.

.

They continued on for another day past the prison before finding what they've been searching for.

"Maggie." Daryl blindly reached behind his seat to shake her knee. "Wake up. We found it. We found the bus."

Maggie and Carl both woke up in the backseat while Daryl parked the car on the grass near the side of the road.

"Wait here. I'll go do a sweep-"

"Like hell." She was already out of her door.

The other three immediately followed Maggie out of the car.

"Glenn! Gle-"

She doesn't get to yell out much further before Michonne's hand is clasped over her mouth. "Do you wanna draw them out?"

"Relax, okay?" Daryl tried to calm Michonne down.

Maggie shook her head as Michonne released her. "No, she's right."

The group strode along the side of the bus. There was blood staining the inside of the windows, and it was parked haphazardly half off the road. Whatever happened caused a quick, unplanned reaction.

"Let me go first." Daryl looked from Maggie over to Michonne and Carl. "You two stand watch out here."

There were three walkers on the bus. The first one Daryl stabbed in the head immediately. The second one was in the back of the bus and Daryl shot it down. The final one was stuck under a seat and desperately trying to get out to feast. Daryl knelt down to put an end to it. He knew all of them. Had spoken to them last week.

The remaining sight was just as gory. A few bodies lingered in their seats, torn apart. A hand laid amputated. The prospect of survival did not look good. He turned around to the woman behind him. "Look, this doesn't mean anything. There's no sign of Glenn on this bus. He's smart. He would've got away."

Maggie just continued to take in the scene. "He was still recovering. Worse than Sasha was."

Daryl walked over the few steps to the middle of the bus and grabbed onto both of her shoulders, trying to get her to focus only on him. "Glenn was on the council for a reason. He knows what to do. He would've got as many people out as he could, sickness or no sickness."

She nodded with him, trying to keep up the faith.

"Then let's pick up the trail." Carl's voice at the door stole their attention.

Daryl agreed and led them off the bus. "We still got plenty of daylight. We'll pack up a few bags. Make camp until we find them." He returned to the car a reached inside the driver's door in order to pop open the trunk. They gathered together as he divided up their supply bags and spare weapons. "I promise you that we'll find the rest of our people. I don't care how long it takes."

The four followed the blood stains from the bus as they tried to pick up a trail. If anyone else was still alive, they couldn't have gotten too far. Once they found their friends or concrete evidence that they were in fact gone, they would reset and adapt. They would start over and continue to breathe despite all odds.

Together they would make a new home.

**END**


End file.
